


The Curious Murder of Keith Kogane

by Anonymous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Flashbacks, Gen, M/M, Other, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24833284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Takashi Shirogane is a third-year university student with high hopes for the future. Double majoring in astrophysics and biochemistry, Shiro hopes to have the opportunity to apply to NASA and work his dream job there. His life is going well; he has fantastic grades, parents who love him, great friends, and a wonderful boyfriend in the form of Keith Kogane.However, everything comes crashing down one day when he visits his boyfriend's flat only to find him dead in his living room. Now, struggling with both university and his boyfriend's death, Shiro can only pick up the pieces and try to move on.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 20
Collections: Anonymous





	1. C1: Theorem, Limit Definition of Derivatives

**Author's Note:**

> **Inspirations:** Heathers (1988), Cheese in the Trap (webcomic), Zetsuen no Tempest (season 1), Twin Peaks the TV show (Season 1), Dark Dreams Don't Die (game), and AI: The Somnium Files (game).
> 
> This fanfic is already finished but, given that I am extremely insecure about it, may or may not exist for more than a chapter due to reasons that will entirely be my fault and the fault of no one else's. As a result, I am Anonymous for this fic until otherwise, AKA: when I am confident about this fic. I've been planning this fic for a while, and I've edited every chapter at least once or more - the first chapter being the most edited thus far, if I am correct. If my count isn't wrong, there are 21 chapters total.
> 
> This fic is heavy in flashbacks, and thus I'm sorry about that, but it's for a reason. I think.
> 
> I've listed out my inspirations because of the fact that I wanted people to know where I pulled the ideas from. I did my best to fine tune this fic over and over, as much as I could, but I did not beta-read this and I did all of this on my own and on my own time. The fic is based in Americanamiddeast. Good luck figuring out what is going on, because I don't know.
> 
> I'm sorry for the really long author's note, but I am very nervous posting this and my hands are jittery. Getting all this out is helping my nerves.
> 
> I also want to state that this fic isn't really meant to be realistic. If the timeline doesn't make sense, I'm sorry but I was only interested in finishing the story the way I had it set up.

Bass blasts out all over in the sorority house, an endless _thump, thump, thump_ that attempts to echo the heartbeat of a man on the verge of a heart attack, and he teeters on the edge of one himself. His bones shake and his teeth rattle alongside whatever remix is playing and he rubs circles on his temple while praying that he doesn’t have a migraine any time soon.

Parties are the single worst thing in the entire world. An exaggeration of a university student, of course; there are far more things to be gloomy and sombre over but his mind centres on the ‘here and now’ instead of the ‘what if and may be’.

As it stands to say, Shiro can’t ever explain how it is that he lets himself be talked into going to parties with Keith. It follows the same formula without fail: Keith will beeline to Shiro on some days, jump onto his back, and he carries his (not short) boyfriend back to his dorm despite them not being roommates with him. He will drop him onto the plain sofa in the living room while Matt is playing on his 3DS and Keith will sit there looking peevish until he tells Shiro why it is that he is so irritable that day.

It is then that Keith will tell him they have an invitation to some place or another; despite how very antisocial they are, they are unfortunately always getting invitations to a party, a large group outing, to go to a club, a party… Shiro doesn’t envy them in the slightest. Every time Keith tells him of the parties people want them to go to, Shiro just shrugs his shoulders and tells them ‘I cannot bring myself to care about your acquaintances, sorry’ as gently as possible.

He doesn’t hate that Keith tells him about these things. He simply does not care much for the groups of people that gravitate towards him every time he gets into a new class nor does he ever expect Shiro to, so he is always blunt when he tells Keith how he feels about his ‘friends’. He doesn’t try to be too brash about it, not that Keith cares about politeness or not. Sometimes, however, he will manage to cajole Shiro into going to one of these parties with him so that he doesn’t feel alone and he almost always acquiesces to what Keith wants.

Because Keith is his magnetically handsome and beautiful boyfriend and Shiro is nothing if not weak.

The party that they are at is in some sort of sorority house; _‘I didn’t even know our university had one,’_ he thinks to himself while he surveys the place, though he can’t really see much thanks to the darkness and attempts at flashy lighting strong enough to give someone a seizure. He holds a red cup of vodka that a passerby gives him and he unceremoniously dumps it near the foot of some extremely drunk person. He thinks he knows him from somewhere but he shrugs and decides not to linger on it for too long; his classrooms are upwards to three-hundred and he may have seen some of his classmates only once or twice throughout his time during this semester so he may be misremembering, really.

He continues to inspect the place, however, and tries to see if he can catch sight of anyone he actually knows. He scours around, looking for Lance, Matt or, God forbid, Keith. He squeezes himself through the throngs of people getting drunk, high, or trying to do both at the same time (and he isn’t sure if that is safe or not; he remembers only doing weed once in high school and that is with Adam) and continues to search for some peace in this wild, wild wasteland.

It takes some time but he catches sight of a familiar head of hair and he pushes past people until he claps his hand onto a green-clad shoulder. Underneath his palm, Matt jolts and nearly jumps out of his skin before he whips his head around to look behind himself and he lets out a large groan when he realizes who it is.

There is a woman in front of Matt who sways a little, eyes fogged over and staring off into something that Shiro cannot see. Her gaze is misty like glass in the rain, and she peeks up at him to stare through him with those empty, listless eyes. “Who’re you?” the woman says with a raspy, hoarse voice, the words forcing themselves out with some degree of difficulty and Shiro tries not to flinch. Something about her gaze is accusatory, angry, bold… and it is quick to melt away into nothingness and a lack of comprehension. Matt butts in, quick.

“Sorry, she’s someone I bumped into,” Matt says hastily in lieu of an explanation, “this is Shiro, and Shiro, this is Serah. You remember her, right?” he moves to stand next to Matt and shakes his head while he crosses his arms. Serah perks up for a second at the mention of her name, but then she closes her eyes and her lips fall into a flat line, her face flush from far too much alcohol. There is a momentary pang of recognition, but not much – just that he knows he has seen her before, but not where or why.

Serah sways a little, opens her eyes, and beams up at Shiro with a recollection that he can’t say is mutual. He can’t even tell if she is actually drunk or if it’s something else, uncertain as he is with drugs of all kinds. Everything blends in for him at some point; Keith always does enjoy teasing him over his inexperience with weed, though; one time isn’t enough to teach him anything.

 _“It’s not that bad when you don’t do it in excess.” Keith likes to say._ _“Smells like shit, though. My flat sometimes just reeks of the shit after, and it drives me nuts ‘til I open the window.”_

_“Why do it, then? I wouldn’t have been able to handle the terrible smell.”_

_“Anxiety.”_

It goes without saying that Keith drinks more than he does. Matt is generally more inclined to drink than Shiro as well, though his red cup still boasts its initial volume of vodka and he almost considers grabbing it just to dump it on the ground. He has a conversation to get back to, however, and he blinks slowly at Serah to try and centre himself back in reality. She just gives him a dopey, wet stare.

“I’m sorry, I do not... know who Serah is?” Shiro says a bit apologetically while he continues to take the woman in. Nothing about her seems familiar – blonde, green eyes, a bit chubby, round face... no, he really doesn’t recognize her, even if he does feel like he has seen her before. Maybe she goes to one of his classes and sees Shiro more than he sees her? Who knows.

Matt places a hand on Shiro’s back, smiles at Serah, and then leads them both away from the girl much to his confusion. He walks alongside Matt, watches him shove the vodka in someone else’s hand, and then breathes out a huge sigh of relief while Shiro can only stare at him, bemused.

“You doing okay there, buddy?” he asks and gives his friend a small smile, even as Matt just glares back at him.

“That was the chick who bullied you relentlessly for dating Adam. You seriously don’t remember her?” he nearly snaps out and Shiro shrugs. He does stop to ponder Matt’s words, however, and he places his fist on his mouth and furrows his brow while he tries to remember.

 _‘For dating Adam… for dating Adam…’_ almost as if a lightbulb goes off, Shiro’s face brightens up immensely and he snaps his fingers then points at Matt. “Oh, oh! I remember now! Right; she is the one who could _not_ accept that he was gay. Yeah, yeah; I remember her now – wait, she bullied me?” he doesn’t remember being bullied. This feels like news to him – he is pretty sure that no one just ‘forgets’ being bullied.

Matt stares at him, stares through him, stares into space, then stares back at Shiro again. They look into one another’s eyes. He feels the spark of a conversation, of a moment between platonic soulmates. Then Matt ruins it by flipping him off and Shiro rolls his eyes.

“Yes, Shiro. She was bullying you, or trying to. I guess it’s kinda hard to bully you when you’re… like that.” he vaguely gestures at Shiro’s everything, as if that explains anything. It does not. “Were you always this tall and bulky?”

 _‘Of course not!’_ Shiro thinks vehemently.

Instead, he swings his arm around Matt’s shoulder and tugs him close. “I came out the womb this way.” Shiro says in a sing-song way and grins when Matt makes a face and wriggles out from underneath his arm.

“Dude, gross.”

“You knew I was going to make that joke, do not ‘gross’ me. Anyway, do you know what she studies? Her major?”

“No fucking clue.” Matt says with an extremely happy chirp. Of course. “I just ran into her and she started blabbing on about how sorry she is, but I think she didn’t realize I was _Matthew Holt from high school_ and not someone else. I don’t even know what she was apologizing about! God, parties suck dick.”

Shiro laughs. “Yeah, yeah they do. Keith still goes to them, though. I have no clue why.” he shrugs his shoulders. “Must be the downside of being so painfully handsome that everyone wants you.”

“Thank God I’m not that hot, then. I don’t think I’d be able to handle going to parties all the time. How the hell do they handle it?”

Shiro shrugs instead of giving an actual answer, because he really doesn’t have one. That is a question he itches to ask every damn day yet he can never bring himself to. Still, he doesn’t want to leave the conversation hanging so he says, “Stoicism, maybe? Actually, speaking of, do you know where Keith is? It’s getting late and I have a paper due in two days and I think I should take him back home, otherwise he’d just sleep in a corner here.”

“He’s done that before?”

“ _Yep._ One-hundred percent _yep._ ”

He gets an odd scowl from that, as though Matt can’t believe that Shiro is telling the truth (which he is), before his expression smooths out and becomes pensive. He scratches the back of his head after a while; his face twisting up into an ugly grimace before he lights up like a little bulb. Maybe he can convince Matt to dress up as a lightbulb this Halloween.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah. I remember someone dragging him away to a corner – they should be over... there! Yeah, yeah, I see them right now. Right there!” he points towards a group in the left corner and Shiro gives a quick glance and back.

He claps Matt, gently, on the back and gives him a quick ‘thank you’ before he jogs off over to where Keith may be. Well, jog in a loose sense; it is more like he slots himself in between people to try and get through by writhing around like a slug. When he stumbles in at the end of the crowd it is to a small victory: Keith _is_ here and he is swaying a little, hunching over and he looks close to passing out even though his grip on his cup is almost crushing it. His eyes are glossy and his lightly-tanned skin is going red all over. He probably needs to intervene, and soon.

When he gets in closer he realizes that they seem to be playing a form of modified beer pong. He blinks and watches Keith take a drink from a cup that isn’t from the formation before he perfectly lands a pong in a cup. The other team groans loudly in dismay _._ Shiro rolls his eyes when he sees no one else on Keith’s team take a drink. It isn’t that modified, at least. He shoves someone away from his boyfriend’s side and ignores their indignant ‘hey!’ and he instead taps on Keith’s shoulder to get their attention.

It takes a good few seconds before Keith realizes that he is jabbing his finger into their bony shoulder and they twist their body around to peer up at who it is. When their eyes meet, Keith’s entire face lights up – his face looks an even brighter red, his eyes glisten with joy, and he throws his cup aside – splashing his left behind drink everywhere - to instead jump up and hug Shiro tightly.

“Oof – hi, baby,” Shiro laughs out as he wraps his arms around Keith’s slender frame, holding onto him while they both sway backwards, “baby, I’m going to go home now – do you want to come back with me and I’ll get you an Uber back to your place?” Shiro coos while he backs away and he runs his fingers through Keith’s soft, wavy hair. “Lance is here too, so he can take the ride with you.”

Keith blinks at him a few times. “... you wanna go home?” Keith says innocuously. He offers him a sweet little smile that makes his heart melt and Shiro smiles back.

“Yeah, I have a paper I need to write and -”

“Oh, so ya don’ wanna fuck?” Keith asks bluntly and Shiro sighs. Some of the more sober and cognizant partygoers around them laugh at Keith’s outburst. Of course they choose now of all times to be horny – though, Keith has always been a horny drunk, so he doesn’t know what he expects.

“No, honey, you’re drunk. C’mon, let’s go find Lance and go home. I really need to write my paper, and you really need to sleep.”

“Mmmmmmm. Don’t go ye~t. Hug me a bit more.” Keith whines out and Shiro laughs but relents. He gathers Keith into his arms and manages to hobble away somewhere a bit more secluded, much to the protests of Keith’s beer pong team. Keith sprawls out on top of his lap the moment they sit down somewhere and Shiro just cradles him.

In spite of the loud, booming, irritating music that plays, where everything is slamming against Shiro’s eardrums to the point that he is sure he is going to worsen his tinnitus, he finds a sense of peace in the way Keith curls into his chest. His hair brushes against his chin and neck, tickling him, and he smiles while he closes his own eyes. He nuzzles into that mess of black hair, breathes in the smell of Keith’s floral shampoo, and he hums happily.

“Things must be getting stressful for you, huh?” Shiro murmurs into Keith’s hair and he shifts in his arms, his fingers curling into fists against his chest. “University sucks.” Shiro says jovially and Keith snorts into his neck.

They move a bit further away from the music and sit outside finally so that they can hear themselves way better. He makes sure to grab both their coats along the way and wrap it around them like a makeshift blanket to deal with the cold outside, though he doesn’t know how much that helps. They can’t stay out here for long, but he can still enjoy himself, can’t he? He misses his boyfriend, and Keith looks like he is about to doze off.

He threads his fingers through silky hair and holds onto Keith for only a moment longer before he tells his boyfriend that they have to go home. It takes a bit of struggling and convincing with a little bit of searching but he manages to find Lance among the crowd. He convinces him to leave the party early, walk back with them to his dorm alongside Matt, and then he calls for an Uber to take Lance and Keith back home. He is gentle with Keith as he manoeuvres them around and puts them in their coat before handing them off to Lance, who looks at them the same way a four-year-old looks at their parent’s PDA.

He waves goodbye at Lance who sticks his tongue out at him then takes on a weird, almost constipated expression before he slips inside the Uber with a drunk Keith. Matt beelines to his bed, flops down, and passes out immediately when they step back inside their dorm, whereas Shiro sequesters away to a different corner so that he can work on his paper. He only manages to finish editing the second to last paragraph before he shuts his laptop off and goes to bed, too. University isn’t worth ruining his sleep over.

* * *

The next morning is hard to wake up from, but thankfully it is Sunday which means he doesn’t have any classes or extracurricular activities and his part-time job is in the evening. He almost falls off of his bed, much to his chagrin and Matt’s amusement, and he ambles up to their little kitchen so that he can make himself some cereal. He wants to go to the gym in an hour or so, then he can get to studying until he has to go to work...

Matt starts talking to him about something to do with Nintendo or whatever (Shiro is a PlayStation kid himself; he grows up playing games like _Devil May Cry_ and _Resident Evil_ whereas Matt loves pretty much every Nintendo IP, _Kirby_ especially) and he tries his best to keep up. At some point he grabs his phone and sends Keith a text, then calls him just to hear his voice again.

A loud song blares out in the middle of the living room, surprising both Matt and Shiro, and they look over to the tiny coffee table and then back at each other. With his own phone still in his hand, Shiro peeks at the other phone vibrating on the table and he smacks his forehead when he realizes what the source of the noise is.

“Keith left his phone here.” Shiro calls out as he hangs up, grabs Keith’s phone, and then looks at Matt who stares back at him with an exasperated gaze. “I’ll take this back to them – they literally _cannot_ live without their phone.”

“God, this is like – what, the fifth time he’s done this?” Matt says and Shiro bites his lower lip to keep from laughing. “I think he just wants every excuse possible to come and visit you, or for you to go and visit him. God, he’s such a horny idiot.”

“Maybe he is just a romantic!” he leaves to change his clothes while Matt yells back with an extremely irritable ‘he’s just horny!’ before he goes back to eating his oatmeal. He puts some warm clothes on, huddles himself up with his coat and beanie, and swipes Keith’s phone off of his desk and shoves it into his pocket.

He arrives at Keith’s apartment building later with a cold, leaky noise and red cheeks and he curses the weather for being so terrible and cruel, then grumbles to himself about global warming and whatever else his mind wants to blame on for the weather. He knocks on Keith’s door after he gets to the right floor, rings the doorbell, then announces himself before he reaches for his spare key (that he will always be giddy about having) to let himself in. To his surprise, however, the door is unlocked.

There is a strong, iron smell that slaps him in the face the moment he takes one step into the flat and Shiro immediately recoils, his nose scrunching up and his eyebrows pinch together. He tries not to assume the worst immediately, trying to shove the unwanted scenario at the back of his mind and instead racks his brain for possible alternatives, with questions popping up to shove away the pessimist inside of him. Questions such as: why does Keith’s place smells like this? Is something wrong with his place, and is this a new development? He can ask Keith about this when he wakes him up. He hopes he won’t mind Shiro waking him up to questions near immediately, this won’t be the first time he does it to Keith.

“Keith?” Shiro calls out while he closes the door behind himself, his feet padding noisily across the wooden floor. “What is that smell? Honey?” he sees a peek of Keith’s hair from behind, barely visible from the back of the armchair where he seems to be asleep on, and it strikes Shiro as immediately and uncomfortably odd when he realizes that the chair isn’t in its usual spot.

Instead of being next to the sofa and close to the door, the armchair is roughly a meter away from its original location. It faces away from the door and towards the balcony as well, and that makes his heart sink in to his stomach, heavy, hot and unbearable. He swallows the thick lump that forms in his throat as questions begin to shove themselves at the forefront of his brain, begging to be asked and to know why it is that Keith does this, or why he still isn’t answering him. He places his hand on the back of his neck as he stalks closer to the armchair.

“Baby? Why are you asleep in the armchair?” Shiro calls out gently, failing to mask the tremble in his voice as he does. “It’s not good for your back.” the smell is still _unbearable,_ but he can’t focus on that right now – his interest lies more on Keith, right now. But he can’t deny that it is getting stronger the closer he gets to the armchair. “Baby, let’s -” he lags and stops when he sees a ruined cushion nearby, his throat constricting tightly, and the worst possible scenarios come running back into his head. His heart thunders in his chest.

He steps forward, grabs the back of the armchair, and something finally dawns on him as his fingers touch upon a wet surface. Something that has been screaming and blaring in the back of his mind like an unwanted alarm, yet he tries his best to deny it.

There is red on the armchair with a tiny splattering on the floor near said chair, and now it is on his fingertips, his skin. He stares at the fluid staining his hand. His heart leaps up to his throat. He steps forward and abruptly screams.

In the armchair, with wide eyes, flattened lips, and a blank expression, sits Keith with a bullet hole between the eyes.

Keith Kogane is dead.


	2. C2: Heuristic, Psychological

He doesn’t know when it happens but at some point in the last few minutes Shiro manages to fumble with his phone, call the police, and give them the address to Keith’s place. He sits down on the sofa afterwards, nearly tears his coat off, and shoves it aside before he then wraps his arms around himself and curls into himself as much as he can. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, slowly, until his brain filters out the smell of iron and the sound of the busy streets outside until the only thing he can focus on is the booming rush of blood in his ears.

The door to Keith’s flat is wide open but he doesn’t look outside and just keeps his eyes shut while he rocks back and forth, his breath stuttering in his chest and then escaping out as a heavy, shuddering exhale. He tries to pinch himself – hard – several times to try and force himself out of this nightmare, his mind becoming the screeching tires of a crashing car where no thoughts or rationality can save it.

It is when the police arrive and a kind woman wanders over him and puts a hand on his shoulder does he crumple and start crying. There are police officers around him trying to do their work, while a man and woman stand on both sides of him while they try to console him. The tears just won’t stop coming and Shiro buries his face in his hands, embarrassed to be seen like this, but the male officer just simply grabs some tissues and helps him wipe his face and hands clean.

“Why don’t we go and wash your face? Do you know where the washroom is?” the male asks once Shiro calms down enough to actually focus on them and he nods, trying to tamp down the shame he feels at his own childishness. He has to splash his face with ice cold water several times before his head cools down enough and he isn’t ready to burst into tears at a single word.

But… Jesus. _Jesus._ No one can blame him for his breakdown, right? He hopes not, at least. He inhales shakily and then coughs on the exhale; his throat feels raw and he lets out another choked sob. He closes his eyes tightly to force away the need to cry and grits his teeth until he has a handle on himself. The police officer is still standing outside, looking at him with pity that Shiro isn’t sure he hates or appreciates. He hobbles back to the couch, tries not to pay attention to the men taking pictures of Keith’s body [oh god, his – _his body!_ ] while others are guarding the door outside and keeping curious neighbours from looking in.

He appreciates the diligence, vaguely. His head feels like it is full of cotton and his eyes burn. The female officer is still waiting for him at the couch, her hands on her hips and her eyes far kinder than her male co-worker. “You said you were… Mr. Shirogane, yes? The one who called us in?” she asks when Shiro sits down again, his hands in his hair and his gaze elsewhere. It takes him some time but he manages to nod when his words fail him.

“I am Officer Roihani, and this is Officer Spencer.” Her voice is almost patronizing with the way she talks to him, even saying simple words like that – as if Shiro being overtaken by grief is akin to him being a child. He tries not to glare at the officer. “Could you tell us your relation with the victim?”

He shifts uncomfortably and lets his arms hang off of his knees, before he says, “I’m his – I mean, I was, was – I was his boyfriend. We – we’d been dating since, since first year. I’m third year, he is fourth. Was _._ ”

“I understand this must be hard for you, Mr. Shirogane. But we need you to co-operate. Please give us any details that you can on the victim.”

He does his best. He tells him Keith’s name, his age, and that he only has a mother now thanks to his father’s unfortunate death. He is relatively popular in that he has big friend groups in his classes and often gets invitations to here and there, though he always tries to make time for Shiro. He has a part-time job at a call centre in the university, and he has high grades. Though, he has to refer to Keith in – in the past tense, as _was, would, made,_ and Shiro finds himself struggling to comprehend the reality as is.

The officers just wait for him to let that episode pass and Shiro breathes in and out deeply until he has control of himself. He recounts the details of last night when they ask; the party, dropping him off home and then getting Lance to go on an Uber home with him to make sure he is safe…

“This Lance person,” officer Spencer interrupts, “you said he lives next door? Is he room 401 or 403? May we get a full name?”

“401. Um, I know he goes out early in the Sundays because he studies in the library nearby, and his last name is McClain.” he gives off the name of the library and officer Spencer is quick to jot it down and Shiro tenses. “Are you going to question him?” Shiro asks, trying to keep his voice from getting louder, and it is officer Roihani who speaks this time.

“We just need to speak to the people who last saw and spoke to the victim, Mr. Shirogane,” she explains, which he knows already but he keeps his mouth shut, “and we just have to confirm their alibi. You have a roommate who can confirm yours, a… Mr. Holt, yes?” he nods. “And you also said you have a ride ticket to prove you took the bus to get to here.” he reaches for his wallet to bring out the ticket and show it to officer Roihani and she nods after looking it over and she gives it back to him. “Is there anyone who can confirm Mr. McClain’s whereabouts?”

“He lives with someone called Ryan. I know Ryan works from home, so he probably saw Lance, and – and I don’t know how he would have gotten in, anyway, because Keith didn’t give Lance a spare key.”

“And how did you get in, Mr. Shirogane?” officer Roihani asks while she raises an eyebrow.

Shiro blinks, looks her in the eyes, and says, “the door was unlocked when I got here, I forgot the spare key my boyfriend gave me. I just wanted to – to visit him, I guess? I knocked, I rang the doorbell, but he didn’t answer so I just… I called out to him, and then, I,” he swallows the lump in his throat down, hoping that his half-lie isn’t obvious while his brain shrieks nonstop about _why are you lying to the police! What’s wrong with you!_ “So, I guess I just… hoped, or rather, guessed the door was unlocked and I came in. He was drunk last night, so…” he shrugs helplessly and looks down at his feet and officer Spencer jots down everything he says – or rather, paraphrases it and shortens it, Shiro guesses.

He doesn’t really know how police jot their notes down.

Officer Roihani looks him up and down critically and he looks back at her with as firm a gaze he can. Whatever she sees seems to satisfy her, and she nods. “Why wouldn’t Mr. McClain check to see if Mr. Kogane was home?” officer Spencer asks afterwards and Shiro’s eyes widen before he jumps up to answer without looking too desperate.

“Well,” he taps his knees, “Lance and Keith don’t really talk to each other much because they’re not in the same classes, and they’re not really _friends._ I know they used to be, but. You know. University changes things.” it isn’t like Shiro is necessarily lying; even though Lance is more than kind enough to escort Keith back home to make sure no one takes advantage of him, he doesn’t really like Keith and neither does he like Lance. Some sort of high school drama that Shiro isn’t privy to and, prior to Keith’s death, doesn’t care to know about either.

He beats himself up for not asking more about Keith and his past before his unceremonious _murder_ , but he tries to shove those thoughts aside and keep his distress from showing on his face as he looks back at the two officers before him.

Officer Roihani eyes him up and down, stares into him and dissects him open with her intense, clinical gaze, and Shiro smiles nervously at her, peeks over to where Keith’s body is, and then immediately hunches over in discomfort. He hears a sigh from the officer and both of them wait for Shiro to ‘regain his composure’ before he looks back at them to resume the interrogation.

“Did Mr. Kogane not hide a spare key in case he forgot his own?” officer Roihani asks and Shiro shakes his head. It has always been something he remembers arguing with Keith about. Especially during days where the other tells him that they don’t have their key and he follows them all the way back only for Keith to realise that oh, their key has been with them the entire time they just don’t realise it is in _these jeans_ and not the other ones.

He normally stays the night when Keith does that and walks with a limp the next morning, but now there won’t be anymore playful pranks or harmless forgetfulness that will have him stay the night. There won’t be any more dates or Keith picking Shiro up at the end of his classes and being late for his own just because he doesn’t mind being tardy if it is for him. He tries not to let the despair take over too much as he still has questions to.

“I don’t think... Lance should be a suspect.” Shiro says midway through. The officers give him a questioning look. “Oh, um – well, none of us have a gun license – except for Keith. But – he had a gun license because he thought handguns looked ‘cool’. It was always empty, I swear.”

“We will still have to question Mr. McClain, Mr. Shirogane.” officer Roihani says and Shiro winces. Can’t say he didn’t try, he guesses.

The officers tell him that they will be driving him back to his dorm and he can’t bring himself to decline – or rather, they won’t let him. They will probably ask Matt questions while there too, so he doesn’t give them his number. He doesn’t even know if they do want Matt’s, but they don’t ask so he stays quiet. He gives them the number for Keith’s mother, however, so that they can inform her of… of Keith’s fate. He makes sure to grab his coat from the sofa and put it back on before he lets the two officers lead him away.

Officer Roihani drives him back to the university and officer Spencer sits in the passenger seat while she drives. They both follow him up to his dorm and ask Matt questions when he opens the door to let Shiro in, and they leave once they are satisfied. Once the police are completely gone, Shiro closes the door with a quiet click and then throws himself onto the sofa, grabs a cushion, and _screams_ into it. Matt jolts in surprise and backs off a little, watches him scream his throat raw, and then twiddles his thumbs.

Silence hangs over them both. Matt clears his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “for… for what happened to Keith. They didn’t deserve that.” his voice is small and a part of Shiro wants to lash out and shriek at him, snap at him, ask him what _he_ knows, but that part is quick to deflate. He reaches a hand out instead and Matt is immediately by his side, taking him into his arms and he hugs him tightly while Shiro breaks into tears again.

He doesn’t know how long they spend with Shiro crying like a baby but he only knows that by the time he is done his body is heavy and he feels tired. More tired than he has in a long while. Three all-nighters in a row cannot compare to how he feels, and Shiro just wants the world to fade away and for this all just be a terrible trick by his brain.

Yet, Shiro looks into Matt’s eyes and sees them bright and apologetic, glimmering with quiet tears, and he reminds himself that his nightmares will never be so kind as to give him a best friend like this.

* * *

He apparently passes out at some point because he finds himself opening his eyes and wakes up to the fact that a blanket is on him. He sits up slowly and the first thing he does is grab his phone, call his workplace, and tell them that he can’t come in that night. He is sure his manager is going to lose his mind when he hears him speak. The moment he tries to coerce Shiro into working tonight he just refuses him again and hangs up when he makes his point and his manager gives up. He looks up in surprise when the door to the dorm opens and Matt is shuffling his way in.

There isn’t even a second for him to ask what is happening before Matt heads off to the kitchen and comes back with a plate of shrimp biryani and Shiro almost laughs. Almost. Today is still forcing an uncomfortable growth in his chest that he can’t swallow down or force away, and Matt gives him a small smile. “C’mon, lets eat up, okay?”

Eating around the coffee table is as comfortable as always… which is to say, not at all. Neither of them do their usual complaining and eat in relative silence, until Shiro finds that having food in his belly is helping him calm down a lot. “You wanna tell me how the talks with the pigs went?” Matt attempts to joke and Shiro snorts regardless.

“It… just went as well you would expect, I guess.” Shiro admits. Matt sighs and shrugs, playing with the small bits of his food and Shiro stares at his fork. He then can’t help the smile as he says, “Matt, I lied to the police and I do not know why.”

His fork clatters noisily on the plate and Matt stares at him with wide eyes and a gaping open mouth. His eyes search Shiro’s face and then he is looking around as if to see if anyone else is around (there isn’t, but A+ for the paranoia), before he is then pointing at Shiro, screaming, “you LIED to the police!? Are you MENTAL!?” his voice is extremely high as he manages those words out. His hands bury themselves in his own hair and then he is no longer sitting down but instead pacing around the dorm, eyes staring ahead at nothing.

“Oh my god, Shiro, why the fuck did you lie to the police!?” Matt cries out again.

“I lied to them that I did not have my spare key to Keith’s flat with me and that I forgot it back here. I didn’t lie about anything big, calm down.”

“You lied to them for no reason, Shiro! That’s still a problem – oh you fucking idiot, they’re going to be so suspicious of you once they find out you lied. You dumbass! Why would you do that!”

“I had you confirm my alibi! The only reason they’d think for me to lie was that I was freaking out, which I am unsure if you’re aware of, but people who just recently see their loved murdered they don’t think straight.”

“Don’t you sass me! They asked me Shiro! They asked me, and they said, ‘Mr. Holt do you have a fucking spare key!’ and I said no, but you did, and you lied to them that you forgot it at HOME? You are so lucky they didn’t search this –”

“You need a warrant for –”

“I don’t give a shit about the warrant!”

Matt is still pacing around until he finally flops down next to Shiro, his hands in his hair, and his body surprisingly less stressed out now that he has everything out of his system. Shiro blinks. He crosses his legs and settles both his hands on top of his knee, kicks his foot in the air, and then Matt sits up properly and shakes his head. “Okay, all things considering though,” Matt says after a second, “fuck _yeah_ you lied to the police!”

Shiro squints at him. “You changed your tune super fast.”

“Eh, I got over it. Lying to the police is pretty badass, though.”

“It’s dangerous!” Shiro points out.

Matt waves him off. “What else did you lie to them about? You can’t have only lied to them about this, right? If you did, that’s kinda pansy, Shiro.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I didn’t lie about –” he shifts a little then jolts when he realizes he is sitting on his coat. He yanks it out from under him, reaches into his pocket to grab his wallet, his phone, and then he freezes up. “Oh no.” Shiro says softly and Matt looks at him questioningly. “I… I have Keith’s phone with me.”

“… You didn’t hand it over?”

“I forgot.”

They have another shout match after that, though the result of this one is that Shiro rushes to his room and shoves Keith’s phone in his desk drawer and Matt is losing his mind. “Why are you keeping his phone!?” Matt says, his voice hysterical yet restrained as he tries not to scream too much, and Shiro just looks at him with wide-eyed distress. Something in Matt softens and he sighs then rubs his face. “Look, just… let’s eat some ice cream and watch shitty reality TV. Today’s… not a good day.”

“Yeah,” Shiro admits softly, “today is a really, really bad day.”


	3. C3: Ergonomically Sound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't really meant to be realistic.  
> Yeah.
> 
> okay.
> 
> Whenever someone from the university would be found dead, whether it be a student or something, my university would send us an e-mail notice that someone died.

Monday is a rough day to wake up on. Shiro isn’t even sure that he gets enough sleep – he spends most of his time last night waking up and then falling back to sleep for only a few minutes only to wake up again. He just keeps drifting in and out of consciousness until it is suddenly morning and he has a class in two hours from ten thirty to eleven twenty. Sleep eludes him so he can’t have a quick hour nap so he drags himself out of bed and forces himself to have some eggs for breakfast. He doesn’t even want to go to the gym today, can’t bring himself to, and it is kind of hilarious that despite his lacking desire to do anything he still cooks his egg better than usual.

Without Keith around to call him up super early and distract him so much there is no way for him to burn his eggs. He glares at the innocent piece of food, stabbing them with his fork so harshly that the plate clatters a little and almost breaks from the force. He almost doesn’t remember changing his clothes, though Matt does wake up some time through his bumbling about and they exchange very quiet ‘good mornings’. Matt mostly because he is still tired and seems to be struggling to come to terms with the waking world, and Shiro just because he… he can’t bring himself to be too jovial. He tries to smile but Matt grimaces and he stops immediately.

He checks his phone first and sees that his university is already informed and is sending e-mails to the student populace regarding a fate of one of their students. There are probably a lot of students who don’t know who Keith is, who probably look at this e-mail uncaringly, perhaps some with pity, and others with a bit of dread or hopelessness. There are some who may be Keith’s friends who look at this and feel their heart jump to their throat and their lungs tighten and constrict. His eyes itch and burn and he immediately rubs at them just to feel wetness sliding down his fingertips.

His throat is raw, feeling worse when a sob rips itself out of his chest and a coil tightens up in his heart. He presses a hand against his mouth, curls over, and he doesn’t even notice Matt sitting next to him to rub his back. He wraps his arms around Shiro soon enough and Matt holds him even as he can’t bring himself to actually cry. He hiccups and lets out choked little noises, yet the tears won’t spill and he begins heaving soon enough. His stomach ties itself into ribbons and Matt simply holds him through this… this _episode_ he is having.

“Are you going to be okay?” Matt says, his voice hoarse with sleep. Shiro nods after a few deep breaths and he shifts a little then angles his phone so that he can show Matt what it is that makes him cry. He looks at the bright screen for a few seconds with an uncomprehending gaze before his eyebrows lift up and then deep, brows pinching together and a frown marring his face. “So, everyone knows now, huh?”

“Yeah,” Shiro says quietly, “well. There are a lot of students here, so…”

Matt opens his mouth but then closes it. Whatever he has to say is lost in his mind now, his eyes trying to tell a message to Shiro that he can’t seem to catch, and he smiles as best he can again. The frown on Matt’s face just grows worse yet it is nowhere near enough to call a grimace so he considers that a victory. “What’re you gonna do? You still have some time before you gotta go.” Matt says after he gets something to eat – some leftovers or something, it looks like – and Shiro shrugs. “You should take a nap. I’ll wake you up at nine-thirty, okay? I promise.”

Shiro considers it for a moment, says, “I’m fine. I’ll probably go to sleep like this. I don’t wanna change out again _._ ” then steps away from Matt to take his advice.

_“You internalize too much.” he remembers Keith saying far too often; normally before and after a test. “You know you can rely on me and tell me everything, right? I don’t mind listenin’ to you complain about your profs, or your classes or… just, lemme know more, okay? I want to be there for you, all the time. I mean it.”_

_Shiro scoffs and rolls his eyes. He looks away from Keith and back at his notebook, his fingers thumbing at the upper-right corner before he says, “I do not internalize anything.”_

_He hears the creaking of the bed behind him and flushes almost immediately when Keith steps in behind him, places both their hands on his shoulders, and lean in close so that their breath is puffing against his ear. He feels his face heat up. “You’re so stressed out, love.” Keith purrs into his ear. “C’mon, you’ve been at this for hours._

_“Let’s go to sleep.”_

His sleep is restless and he keeps jumping awake, eyes wide open and searching his room only for his body to slump back into his bed with disappointment. Matt is still awake, much to his dull surprise, and he gives Shiro a concerned look when it seems like he doesn’t even have to wake him up. He just waves at him, gives him a strained smile, and then steps out to begin his day and hopefully make it through in one piece.

When his classes start, Shiro has to keep his phone pointedly away in his coat pocket just to avoid the concerned texts from Pidge, Hunk, and Lance. God damn the extreme yet absurd convenience of everyone going to the same university because now he can’t run and hide his head underneath his pillow until he suffocates to death. Concentrating in class is more than he can hope to do, but that doesn’t keep him from trying. At the very least he has his recorder with him to catch up with anything he misses.

His notes are a mess of non-sequiturs and terrible, terrible handwriting. It is almost mind-boggling how incomprehensible his lectures notes are right now. There is no way he can salvage this and he almost tears the papers out, but holds himself back. No need to make a scene, which is what he will most certainly do if he lets his emotions get the better of him.

He buries his face in his palms near the end of class and almost forgets everything in his need to bolt out and just stand out in the cold until his face numbs and his fingers are stiff and painful to move. If there are any questions he needs to ask, he will just e-mail his professor and be done with it. His bag is as heavy as ever on his back and he walks quickly, murmuring apologies to anyone he bumps into, and when he steps outside into the absolutely freezing air.

Shiro shakily breathes out and clouds form with each breath. He shivers, wraps his arms around himself and tucks his hands underneath his armpits, and he stares up at the sky while snow gently falls around him. He doesn’t linger outside of the building for long; he awkwardly swings his bag to his side and struggles to get his earmuffs out then stops to stare at them.

The earmuffs aren’t what he usually wears; they are a bright red that stands out, starkly, against the red of his rather muted outfit of whites, greys, and dull beige. Not only are they red but they are a heart in shape and he smiles fondly in memory of how he gets them.

Despite the fact that they absolutely match none of his winter clothes, Shiro wears them regardless of how silly he looks with them – they are incredibly warm and soft and the sting of his ears right now reminds him to hastily slip them on and to keep walking. He finally brings his phone out from his pocket, swipes it open, and stares blankly at the texts waiting for him. He expects Matt’s text, of course. It is just the one – a simple _‘h ey you ok? i'm here if you need someone to talk to’ _and nothing more. Pidge is a bit more relentless, sending him texts with the most aggressive affection he has ever seen and he can’t help but _laugh._

There is that Holt spirit he knows and loves so damn much; he already has Matt’s version of it, which is the shout match from yesterday. He absentmindedly pushes the door to the student centre open and takes a seat on the little bench next to the entrance, scooting a bit more to the edge so that he doesn’t get too cold. He looks through Pidge’s billion texts before he sends her the one saying _‘ Okay, Pidge, I’ll come over. Calm down.’ _and he ignores the expected avalanche of messages that follow after his reply. Hunk sends him a few, mostly offering him some food to calm his nerves.

He has his favourite pie ready whenever Shiro wants, he just ‘has to ask’, and he sends him a smiley and a _‘ I’ll just have some tomato soup, please.’ _He jumps to Lance’s next and his text makes him pause.

_‘ im sorry i didnt stay w/ keith the entire night. idk what to say. im here if u need someone to vent to? im sry for evrything.’_

_‘ Are you okay?’ _he fires back, curious. He has to wait some minutes for Lance’s text to send, which leaves him tilting his head to the side and just staring with growing curiosity even as his stomach grumbles hungrily at him.

_‘ ye. im just thinkin, u kno? abt the shit i nwated to say ot keith and now its too late bc… hes dead???? its gonna be emptier w/o him next door now it wont feel right anymroe knowing im alive and hes the one whos dead bc i always tohught i would die first and he would die last.’_

Oh. He probably will have to talk to Lance about his last line of thought but… not right now, at the very least. His head is an endless fog of feelings and his brain is numb, refusing to cooperate in anything but his studies, and he doesn’t think he can talk to Lance just yet.

He always remembers Lance and Keith having some sort of… bitter, one-sided rivalry that Keith always seems to be winning at. Lance is the one who takes a gap year and not Keith, after all. Lance is the one who has to study hard to get the grades he wants and not Keith. Lance is the one who has to prove his worth when Keith doesn’t have to do that at all. Everyone already knows he is at his best all the time.

_“Hey, is Keith treating you well?” Lance asks him one morning. Caught off-guard, Shiro gives Lance an uncomprehending stare and that makes him wince. He waves his hands around, gesturing at everything all at once yet nothing all the same. “I mean, I was just wonderin’…” he licks his lips, but doesn’t continue._

_Shiro looks at him suspiciously, says, “um, well, yes? Keith has been an absolute angel to me. I just came back from a date with him an hour ago and he was being a gentleman to me, which was really funny to see.”_

_Much to his surprise, Lance almost melts in relief. What is that about?_

_“I’m glad, man. You deserve the best. I hope Keith is that for you.”_

Lance is also the one who always seems to know when Shiro and Keith have an argument. It may be a small one, a big one, but whenever he sees Shiro right after one such argument he is the one who offers him comfort food and takes him out to Baskin Robbins. Then, afterwards, he lets Shiro vent and gives him advice that isn’t biased to him and especially not Keith, which is what surprises him now that he thinks about it.

He knows Keith for far longer than Shiro, and maybe that extends to him knowing when Keith accidentally upsets someone. He is a bit surprised that Lance doesn’t take Keith’s side more often, but then… their relationship has always been a rather odd one. Which begs the question… _‘Is Keith dying first meaning they lose in the rivalry they had with Lance,’_ Shiro asks himself, _‘or does it mean something else to Lance? It’s kinda funny, though.’_

Though… Shiro can’t help but focus on something else as well – something not as pressing that still pierces through his heart and leaves him feeling glum.

 _‘Right,’_ he thinks, _‘he knew Keith for far longer than I did.’_ he puts his phone to sleep and presses the top of it against his lower lip while his gaze burns holes into the floor. _‘I didn’t even get to know him for three full years.’_ he looks off to his right where his view is mildly obfuscated by some random posters and he taps his phone against his lower lip. _‘I didn’t get to ask them even a quarter of the questions I had for them.’_

He closes his eyes.

 _‘I wish we had more time.’_ he thinks to himself before he stands up, leaves the student centre, and heads back to the dorms to quickly grab a bite to eat before he gets ready for his next set of classes. Afterwards, he will probably have to go and visit Hunk and Pidge, mostly because the latter demands him to. If he doesn’t visit tonight, then he is sure she will hunt him down otherwise and tie him up so he doesn’t leave while she is trying to comfort him.

Yeah.

That is the Holt spirit he knows so well.

_“Hey, Shiro!”_

_It’s Keith who is calling out to him from the kitchen, something that takes Shiro a bit too long to register. He looks over his shoulder and over at where Keith is looking at him from over the half-walls._

_“Come over here,” Keith says, “I’ve been waitin’ for you to get my gift for like… fifty years now, you’re so slow.” Lance gives them both a warning look when he hears that, as if to say ‘don’t you dare make out in my flat’ and Shiro absent-mindedly waves his concerns away. Keith casts one stare at Lance and he lets out a soft ‘eep!’ at it and immediately looks away, his head bowing down and his body hunching over. He doesn’t know what that is about, but he has better things to worry about._

_Like his pride and dignity being under attack by Keith, of course._

_“I am not slow! Kogane, you take that back right now.” Shiro bites out playfully before he looks at Pidge, Hunk, Matt, and Ryan apologetically and moves to join his boyfriend in the kitchen. Keith stands there looking like a cat who got the canary, his eyes gleaming with joy and the smile on his face small but beaming. “What did you get for me?”_

_Keith’s smile grows and he bobs his head side to side while he leans against the kitchen counter. He doesn’t say anything for a moment or so before he raises his left hand up and shows off… the extremely red earmuffs._

_“Jesus, Keith, these are almost neon!” Shiro gasps out and Keith breaks out cackling, “I – nothing I have matches these! I’m going to be Rudolph the red-eared reindeer! Keith, you cannot be serious!”_

_“And I’m not,” Keith says even as he daintily places the earmuffs over Shiro’s ears and gives him the biggest shit-eating grin possible, “and I don’t know what you’re talking about. You look fantastic! My own personal reindeer to guide me when my world grows dark, my life dreary…”_

_He tries not to laugh at the utter stupidity of his boyfriend’s words and Shiro gives him a gentle shove against the chest. “You’re such a dick.” he takes the earmuffs off soon enough because his ears are starting to burn up and he rubs his hands together before he looks at Keith. “What’s my actual gift, Keith?”_

_Keith flushes a tiny bit, as he is wont to do whenever he gives Shiro a gift, and he can’t help the way his heart flutters at the way his handsome face looks so shy. “I remember you talking about how you missed your PS1 so…”_

_“You bought me a PS1?” Shiro asks with a twinkle in his eyes and a big, wide smile on his face. “I didn’t really get to play the PS1 much, you know.”_

_Keith’s face burns an even darker red. “I – I know! But you said that you still loved it before it broke, then – then you played on your dad’s PS2, and I thought about getting you a PS2 instead but you still have a working one, so I –”_

_He is quick to silence Keith’s rambling by giving him a chaste kiss – just a simple press of his lips against plush, soft ones, and Shiro backs away after a few seconds. “Hey, breathe, okay? I love whatever you get me.”_

_“Even the earmuffs?”_

_“Especially the earmuffs.” Shiro says seriously and Keith relaxes. “… but no, really, thank you so much, babe. I love it. I’ll make sure to play it and whine at you about how terrible the controls are.”_

_Keith rolls his eyes. “Well, I didn’t only get you a PS1. I got you a Japanese one too, just in case of… well, if there’s region lock, and I went and bought the weirdest games I could find...”_

_He grabs at Keith’s arms and drags him into his own, hugging him tightly just to feel his slighter form. Shiro nuzzles into his neck as Keith returns his embrace and they hold each other like that for a while, that is until Lance yells at them to stop being so lovey-dovey and to come back so that they can marathon a shit ton of terrible Christmas movies._

_“I love you.” Shiro says when Keith grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers together and he smiles when he takes in how red their ears have gotten._

_“… I love you too.”_

_Their first Christmas together, Shiro thinks, is one of the best things to ever happen to him._


	4. F1: Prehistorically Socially Awkward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was in works far before COVID-19, so this is all just coincidence.

_One of Shiro’s most embarrassing memories is telling people the first time he technically meets Keith. He likes to say that the first time they meet doesn’t count, but Keith argues otherwise and – with a large grin Shiro’s way – always convinces him to recount the story to his new friends._

_This is where he stands right now, with Keith introducing him to his friend – James – and pushing him forward to tell him how they meet._

_The story goes like this: it starts, of course, at a party._

_“I don’t know, doesn’t this sort of stuff just seem like a waste of time?” Shiro complains as Matt drags him along to some random person’s flat – to be fair, it is a rather big flat, so he can’t help but be a bit awed about how expensive it looks._

_Rich kids really do have nothing better to do, do they, he thinks to himself as Matt pushes him in through the door. It isn’t that big of a party, which makes it less of a headache than it may have been. From what he understands, this is some rich kid’s attempt to celebrate him graduating from university this year or something like that. He doesn’t really know, he is sure that he has an explanation for this given to him thanks to Matt, but he doesn’t pay much attention to it at the time._

_“You don’t have to drink if you don’t wanna,” Matt murmurs at while he immediately hunts out for beers (and not the vodka that most people are drinking). Shiro follows him blindly, not really wanting to wander away from him and into other people, “but I just want some free alcohol before uni officially starts and I don’t have free time to get drunk as hell.”_

_Shiro raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t vodka better, or something? I don’t drink at all, though, so I don’t know.”_

_“Beer’s less likely to me get mega drunk and ‘boutta blow chunks all over you. Oh, you’re driving!”_

_“Matt, we don’t own a car.” Shiro murmurs to himself while he trails after Matt after he grabs two beer cans and decides to plop down onto the part of the sofa that isn’t taken up by people making out or looking ready to pass out and die from being too drunk. He rolls his eyes and sits on the arm of the sofa thanks to the rest of the seats being taken, and Matt has the decency to look up at him apologetically._

_He isn’t that apologetic, however, given that he isn’t shifting around to let Shiro sit down first so that Matt can just take his place on his lap as he is wont to do. He does shift a little uncomfortably in his spot when he takes in how Shiro is sitting on the sofa arm, so… whatever. They are at a party, it is noisy, and they are probably going to have complaints from neighbours where the rich kid is probably going to pay the cops off or something. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t go to parties._

_Shiro hates parties with a passion greater than a thousand burning suns._

_He looks around the party while Matt takes slow sips of his beer (and winces every time he does, seriously, he normally guzzles them down why is he like this) and tilts his head when he realizes that… well, there are a lot of attractive people here. Most of them also aren’t from his classes that he can recognize, even though it has only been a week so far, and… why is a rich kid celebrating the fact that he is going to graduate this year? Do rich people just have a lot of free time?_

_Why are Matt and him here anyway!?_

_“How did we get invited here?” Shiro asks after a few minutes of looking around and Matt peeks up at him with his face somewhat obscured by the beer can, and he looks up to the ceiling as if trying to remember something. “We are not in any fourth or third year classes, so… would you mind explaining what you did?”_

_He finishes the remaining beer in the can and gives it to Shiro so he can pass it over to the table next to him, right underneath the lamp. He twiddles his thumbs together while his second beer can sits in his lap and then says, “you remember that girl that used to tutor Katie in American history?” and Shiro blinks. “Yeah, she’s a fourth year here and knows this guy, and she somehow knew I was here? Maybe I should ask her out…”_

_“Amanda?” Shiro asks and interrupts Matt from murmuring to himself, and he jolts. “That Amanda? The very same Amanda who had her very own tomato farm? I can’t believe you are still in contact with her.”_

_“I wasn’t!” Matt cries out. “It was just… kinda accidental. I went to the sciences and engineering library, right, just to see what it was like – and she was right there! Then she told me to come over so— I did. I just wanted the free beer, dude.” Matt grumbles to himself and Shiro crosses his legs and his arms as he continues to look around._

_The music choice here isn’t necessarily bad, but it also isn’t good, it is just extremely generic. It serves its purpose well-enough, Shiro supposes, even if he really can’t judge because he doesn’t belong with the rest of the students here._

_Neither does Matt, actually. They are both just first years, and almost everyone in this place is either third or fourth years. There are very few second years here, and Shiro wonders if it is because of summer classes._ ‘Maybe I should take summer and online classes…’ _Shiro thinks absentmindedly while he continues to sit there and watch everyone else have a good time around him. He rolls his shoulders, straightens his back, and then he slides off of the chair._

_“You okay?” Matt asks and Shiro just shrugs exaggeratedly at him. Matt rolls his eyes and waves him off after that and Shiro decides to walk around and try and see if he can meet up with others similar to him. Surprisingly, it works out well; there are a few more socially awkward students around who breathe easy when Shiro smiles brightly at them and politely strikes up conversation with them. He doesn’t ask them anything about relationships and brings up his own major first, points out latest research, and he gets to meet up with some in similar programs as his own._

_It is after he gets the numbers of several people who can help him with managing his courses over time by giving him their notes and previous tests that he runs into his embarrassment of the night. He is passing by what seems to be an arm wrestling when he hears it; there is a handsome person with a voice as rough as gunpowder’s smoke, deep and husky. He finds himself fascinated by the voice before it clicks what the person is talking about –_

_“I don’t know, I’d wish death on someone who sneezed near me.” the voice says, their tone bored and agitated. Shiro blinks owlishly. “It’s already too much that to be out and about, having to face others. I don’t want to have to get sick just because someone can’t shove their face into their arms and keep others from getting sick.”_

_“Maybe it’s a revenge thing?” someone else replies. He is going to aptly name that person as ‘Person B’ while the other one will be ‘person A’ so he can keep track of them. “If I’m sick, everyone else also has to be sick! Something like that?”_

_“Are ya dumb?” person A says, the one with the hoarse, pleasant voice. “Y’know what, no. You’re right, someone would be bitter enough to do that. I have to make everyone sick if I’m sick, how dare they not be sick. Humanity’s ass like that; oh, I’m miserable? Then everyone else should be miserable, too!”_

_“I’m pretty sure that’s why Gavin kept harassing me; for some reason he decided that if he suffered, then I should suffer too. You remember him? The one from the club I used to go to?”_

_“Barely. I chased ‘im out, didn’t I?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Told you, humanity's sometimes dumb like that. Lotsa self-centred idiots with self-esteem issues who kick the shit outta others just ‘cause they feel shit about themselves. This party is another example of that."_

_“Daniel’s rich, though.” person B points out, though she says so with almost no interest._

_Person A snorts in disbelief. “Yeah, but he has no self-esteem. He did this to show off that he doesn’t have to work twenty jobs at once to afford a place to – hey, what’re ya looking at?” it is then that a realization slams into Shiro with the speed and force of a shinkansen – he is no longer only a few feet away from them._

_No, it seems that at some point his feet drag themselves over to where the conversation is happening thanks to his distracted mind. Now, he is standing right next to the two having their conversation while staring at person A – as he has been doing so for quite some time now, his brain decides to helpfully remind him._

_That is being, person A is the one with the shoulder-length black hair and eyes that he can’t tell are blue or not, and Shiro just stares at him like a deer in the headlights. Person B – a woman with chin-length brown hair and hazel eyes – snickers at Shiro’s dumbfounded expression. “Is there something you wanna share with us?” person A barks out, a glare on his face and – oh, oh wow. He has such beautiful, high cheek bones, fitting in with the angular shape of his face. His hair looks as soft as silk and Shiro almost wants to lean over and stroke his hair._

_However, he isn’t drunk in any way, shape, or form. “You goin’ to actually say somethin’, or what?”_

_“You’re pretentious.” is what Shiro says unthinkingly and all other sounds drown underneath the screaming in his head when those words slip out. Person B looks like she is having difficulties not laughing. Person A just stares at him with a blank expression, his eyes wide and his mouth set flat, and Shiro doesn’t say anything else. He can’t bring himself to move either, though. They stare into each other’s eyes, engaging in the most unnecessary staring contest, and the person in front of him blinks._

_“I’m pretentious?” he asks. His eyes bright with confusion, as though he doesn't know whether to feel insulted or not. “Really? Aren’t you pretentious for just walkin’ up to me and sayin’ that to me for no reason, stranger?”_

_He needs to say something to diffuse this situation, and fast. Instead, his gaze falls onto the makeshift table in between the two persons before him and then looks back up. His mouth opens and then immediately runs without his permission. “I think I’m justified in saying you’re pretentious for blaming something inconsequential on the entirety of the species.” to be frank: he says that while understanding absolutely nothing of what he is saying, nor why he is saying them. Damn it._

_Before the attractive person can say anything to refute him, maybe even have a decent conversation with him, Shiro points at the table and says, “arm wrestle me, or else you are both a coward and a pretentious jerk.”_

_And then he actually arm wrestles the person and wins. They stare at each other and even though he looks less bemused with Shiro now and more amused, maybe even interested, he doesn’t want to take any chances. The moment he tries to open his mouth to say something to Shiro… he bolts out of there, grabs Matt, and flees._

_“Dude?” Matt asks while Shiro is nearly ripping his arm off in his haste to get them out of there and get them an Uber. He nearly punches Matt with how he swipes his phone away from him (he is not paying this time!) and he nearly trips in his haste to get into the car when it arrives. The moment he sits down he slams his head into the back of the passenger seat while Matt slides in next to him._

_“So, you wanna tell me what the fuck happened?” Shiro is quick with his explanation and Matt is quiet. There is silence for a second, a blissful second, Shiro thinks Matt pities him. That thought goes crashing into the tracks when Matt bursts into laughter so loud the poor Uber driver flinches. “You… you had an arm wrestling match with a dude you don’t know just because you didn't know how to ask him out or have an actual conversation with him? Then you run away? Just like that? That's what happened? You ruined your chances with a dude?”_

_“Yes, Matt, I just told you what happened.”_

_“Jesus tap-dancing Christ, Shiro. Did you drink at all? Of course you didn’t, it’s you. You smell like daisies and dumbass regret. What happened to you?_

_Gay panic, probably. “I don’t know, I just stopped thinking. The party got to me, or something. God, I am so fucking embarrassed. Why did I do that!? He was so hot too! I could’ve gotten his number or something but, no! I had to arm wrestle him! Okay, that’s it. No more parties. Ever.”_

_Matt leans back into his seat while Shiro tries not to die, then and there. He stares off at the side, the area around them way too damn dark which means he is up way longer than he wants to be. Matt speaks up once they are back on the road, “it’s not like you’re gonna run into him again, and this isn’t high school. We’re in university, dude! This place’s too big for shit like that.”_

_“I guess you’re right,” Shiro concedes, “still. I don’t think I’m going to forget what happened there for like… the rest of my life.”_

_“Probably.”_

_“You are such a supportive friend, Matt. I’m so glad we’re best friends.”_

_“Any time, babe. Any time.”_


	5. C4: Rigorous Digital Roots

He heads up to Pidge and Hunk’s dorm the moment his evening class is done and he sends a message to Matt to let him know his change of his plans. He won’t respond until his night class is done so Shiro just goes on ahead and turns the opposite way in the college to head over to where Hunk and Pidge are. There are some students milling about in the hallways while others are talking to secretaries for the main program groups for one reason or another. He doesn’t go to this part of the college often, not even to get help, so his eyes wander along some of the posters and flyers on the walls and the bulletin boards as he walks his way over to the stairs.

The elevators are very much so in order but he isn’t in the mood to stand around in such a cramped space so he just opts to walk up the stairs. He shoves his hands into his pockets and makes his way up to the third floor, his mind wandering here and there – he has until eleven-fifty-nine tonight to hand in his paper and all he needs to do is fix up some sentences, he also has a test in a week soon, and… and he doesn’t know when Keith’s autopsy will be done, so he doesn’t know when a funeral will be thrown for him.

He has work tomorrow in between his two classes, so he has to be mindful of that. Keith always complains about how little free time Shiro has and sometimes he will force him to skip classes just so that they can go on a date that day. It is why Shiro changes his schedule up before the deadline is over so that he can have Wednesdays mostly free.

Now he has absolutely nothing to do on Wednesdays except to work in the evenings. He lets out an irritated sigh when he stands before the door to the third floor and he nudges his way in. The third floor is a bit barren in comparison to the first floor because there are only dorms here with none of the services. He hums the _Katamari Damaci_ theme to himself while he walks over to Pidge and Hunk’s dorm and he loudly knocks on the door. There is a yell of ‘he’s here!’ with several thuds following up to let him know that Pidge is rushing up to him.

The door swings open and Shiro waves down at Pidge who is glaring up at him. “You actually went to your classes today!?” Pidge huffs out and Shiro tries not to sink in embarrassment. She definitely has her mother’s angry glare, that much is for sure. “Whatever – get in! We have tomato soup for you and we have a _Mortal Kombat_ match to get to.”

“Pidge, let him eat first, chill.” Hunk calls out as he skitters out of the minuscule kitchen, a plate of soup in his hands and a smile on his face slows the tempo of his heart. “C’mon, sit over here, you want water or juice?”

“Do you have peach, mango and orange cocktail juice?” Hunk shakes his head, bemused at his extremely specific request. “I’ll just have water then, thank you.” he stirs the soup lazily the moment Hunk puts it before him and he rests his chin on his free palm and it is only when he has water does he start eating. Pidge is busy fumbling around with her PlayStation while she babbles on about her day. She rambles on about some of the rude people she runs into today, then about the books she finishes.

She complains about some of the German books she is reading and Shiro wishes he can say he understands what she is going on about but… he really doesn’t. Her German studies seem to be driving her insane and she doesn’t like any of the German books her classmates recommend to her. Most of them seem to be historical and Pidge… has always been absolutely terrible at history. He smiles at her back while she fiddles around with the many wires to try and find which one belongs to the PlayStation and which one _won’t_ destroy the TV. He thinks that Mr. Holt will actually kill Pidge if she manages to fuck the TV up.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” Pidge asks after Shiro is done eating and she settles down next to him, giving him the white controller while she plays with the black one and he watches Hunk take the plate and spoon away with a blank look on his face. “Was today… did anything else happen today?” she twiddles her thumbs, gives him a big, awkward grin and Shiro reaches over to ruffle hair her much to her displeasure.

“Don’t worry about me,” Shiro says absently, “I’m okay. Just… I’m just very tired. I don’t think I slept at all last night.” he murmurs while he still messes up Pidge’s hair. She gives token resistances, of course. “Classes were also tedious, as usual. Professor Clarke doesn’t bother using emotions in his voice, as _always_.” he says absentmindedly while he still ruffles her hair, his gaze elsewhere and then turning back to the inquisitive little Holt next to him. She watches him carefully and waits, patiently, for him to remove his hand from her now tangled, wild jungle of a hair.

He looks at the screen, watches as Hunk is the one to change channels so that it is on the PlayStation home menu, and Pidge gives him a small, hopeful smile while lifting her controller up. “Let’s not think about it for a little bit, okay? Let’s just… engage in some terribad gore and forget about it. Unless you wanna play something else, because now that I think about it maybe blood and violence isn’t –”

“No, no.” Shiro reassures. “ _Mortal Kombat_ is fine. _Mortal Kombat_ is nice.” Hunk makes a noise of dissent and Shiro snorts. “Okay, not nice in the traditional sense, but… you know, I never actually asked this, but won’t you guys ever get annoyed moving your consoles back and forth in the future?”

Pidge shrugs loudly. Hunk shrugs as well, but quietly. “Not really,” Hunk says, “they’re lighter than you think, and we leave pretty much everything else here. If we have to take them back, it won’t be that bad.”

“Yeah, what Hunk said. I mean, the PS4 is… heavy, sure, but it’s not that bad. I’m not that scrawny.”

“Yes you are.” Hunk interjects. Pidge pats at the sofa around her for something small to throw at him but gives out a groan of annoyance when she finds nothing. “The Wii, Wii U and Switch are way lighter than the PS4.”

“They suck, though! Except for the Switch. I like playing on your Switch. The Wii and Wii U still suck, though.” Pidge says while and sticks her tongue out. Hunk rolls his eyes. In the midst of it all, Shiro smiles as he watches his friends have fun and he decides to make himself known again by poking Pidge in the cheek. “Ow, wh – Oh! Right, right. Video game!”

“Vidjima germs.” Shiro corrects and Pidge glares death at him. She turns that burning hatred away from him and channels it into their matches when the game starts up proper, though he doesn’t really give her as much of a fight thanks to his mind wandering off every once in a while. Pidge waits for him during those moments, which they never last long because he is still conscious of the timer in the game, but he appreciates it all the same.

When he is absolutely exhausted with gore, combos, and extreme screaming because they are both trying really hard, Hunk sets the Wii U up so that all three of them can play _New Super Mario Bros. U_ and that helps cool him down considerably. They still yell at each other because, well, they keep fucking each other over but Shiro is smiling throughout it all.

“I miss playing as Peach.” Shiro says.

“You did always choose Peach during _Mario_ _Party_ …” Pidge recalls, “and – Hunk! What the fuck! You just killed me!”

“Oops.” Hunk says, unapologetically.

“Get me out of my bubble. Hunk. Hunk, stop ignoring me! Hunk! Shiro! Get me out of my bubble.”

“No.” Shiro chirps out and he squawks in surprise when Pidge punches his arm. It doesn’t hurt, but he still laughs nonetheless. They don’t get far much in the game before exhaustion drags at him. It isn’t even that late – it is eight at night when he checks his phone, but it feels far, far later than this.

At some point they go from playing video games to watching the trilogy of criticisms on _Fifty Shades_ for the sixth time, which is always great.

Hunk and Pidge get into some debates over the merits of _Fifty Shades,_ if there are any, while going in deep about… some meta text, or something. He doesn’t know. He isn’t really paying that much attention to them. The only thing he can think about, as he stares at the TV and the laptop hooked to it, is…

“Keith had the _Fifty Shades_ series memorized,” Shiro says, interrupting the discussion immediately and bringing it to its regretful end, “they told me they read it out of curiosity and then kept rereading it out of disbelief. Every time they forgot how bad it was and people would bash it, they’d read the series again and hate it all over again. They used to quote some of the lines at me.”

Pidge leans against his side and Shiro ruffles her hair again. She gives him some token protests but doesn’t do anything else to stop him and Shiro exhales slowly and he opens his mouth to ask Pidge a simple question: “did you know Keith that well?"

She seems taken aback by the question for a moment or two before she shifts a bit uncomfortably before she says, “no, actually. I didn’t… I didn’t know Keith that well at all. I just know that you and Matt knew him.” she moves away from him so that she can lean back against the sofa proper. Hunk comes in from the kitchen with warm milk for Shiro and water for Pidge and he settles down next to his girlfriend. “I mean… I – I knew him, I clearly knew him. We would talk sometimes whenever he would hang out with Matt.

“I liked him because Matt liked him, and he was nice… _ish._ ” Shiro can’t help but crack a smile – Keith, for all their sweetness and affection towards him, is an extremely hard person to approach. Ignoring the fact that they are very, very beautiful, especially the gorgeous gleam of the universe in his irises, Keith has a rather stoic exterior. If they aren’t being stoic then they are being downright unapproachable.

He misses them so much.

“I think he talked to me about _Breaking Bad_ once because I watched it and he didn’t, and I really, really wanted to introduce him to it.” Shiro snorts. So she is the reason as to why Keith and him marathon that entire show in one weekend. He doesn’t remember how they pull it off, but they did. “But other than that – we just hung out because Matt would bring Keith along and it was hard to talk to him, so I just talked to him through Matt.”

He hums. “What about you, Hunk?” he asks softly. He doesn’t really know why he is asking, why he asks them both this; he must be putting them on the spot. But a curiosity spurs him on, a curiosity he finds difficult to ignore, and there is a brief burn of shame in his chest. He tries not to think about it too much as Hunk taps his chin.

“Keith used to come over to watch me cook.” Hunk says and Shiro blinks and tilts his head. “They would invite themself over when Pidge wasn’t around and they’d watch me cook, and sometimes they’d help out as well. I remember they wanted to get better at cooking.” Shiro nods along to the words, all while thinking, _‘I didn’t know Keith and Hunk were closer than I suspected…’_. He wonders, briefly, why it is that Keith tries harder with Hunk than with Pidge to be friends.

“I’m gonna miss hanging out with Keith,” Hunk continues on and Shiro shifts his concentration back to him, “they never got mad at me for venting. Like, ever. They’d just stand there chopping veggies while I was basically crying, and… I wouldn’t say they were comforting, but it was nice to have someone listen.”

_“I don’t know why you don’t… talk to me more, Shiro.” Keith says with frustration leaking into his voice, and he seems to flinch at the sound of himself. His hands curl into fists on his lap, he looks away, and Shiro shrugs helplessly. This entire thing is a result of miscommunication that doesn’t even deserve to happen in the first place. He is the one who visits Keith on his own volition, without warning or a heads-up._

_Yet instead of being kind and understanding he decides to ignore his boyfriend, concentrate on his essay, and then snaps at him for asking him something as simple as ‘do you want some help with proofreading?’. It leads to a rather short argument, one that he doesn’t want to think about or focus on._

_Keith is tense in front of him, frustration clear all over him and yet he breathes in and out deeply, tries to calm himself down. There really isn’t anything he can say to alleviate Keith’s anger right now and they both just sit in heavy, tense silence until Keith breaks it with an apologetic expression and a soft, “look, just… I want to know if you’re ever stressed out, okay? I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier. I just really want to help.”_

_His shoulders slump. He doesn’t expect the apology, actually expects an escalation, but he is grateful for it regardless. “It’s okay,” he says, “I kind of started it by ignoring you and snapping at you, anyway.”_

_“Let’s agree it’s both our faults, okay?” Keith says. “Do you wanna go get an iced capp?”_

_Shiro snorts. “Our Love is God, let’s go get a slushy.” he quotes and Keith rolls his eyes._

_“He died in high school, Shiro. Don’t compare me to him! I’m not gonna die any time soon.” despite this, he grins and holds his hand out to Shiro. He sighs in exasperation, takes his offered hand, and lets Keith yank him up and spin him around in a facsimile of a dance. “ ‘Sides,” Keith says after a bit, “s’not summer, so Timmy’s aint selling slushies.” Shiro rolls his eyes._

_They go to a Timmy’s that isn’t on campus to avoid the long queue and Shiro gets a large Oreo iced cappuccino, whereas Keith gets a small, black coffee._

“Yeah,” Shiro agrees, “it is nice to have someone who’ll listen to you.”

He leaves after that and wishes them both a goodnight. He heads back to his own dorm as quickly as possible to just _sleep_ the night away because his bones are heavy, his eyelids refuse to stay open, and he can’t think straight. Hopefully he won’t have any dreams tonight.

Matt is already passed out when he gets back so he tries to be as quiet as possible; he eats a quick snack, eats some yoghurt and cucumbers, and heads off to the bathroom. He washes his face, brushes his teeth, does his business and then wash his hands. He opens his laptop up so that he can finish up his paper before he passes out and submits it while only being vaguely satisfied with the result. His paper isn’t bad but he is sure the few edits he makes are more detrimental than helpful.

He drifts off to bed afterwards and lays down, curls in on himself, and tries to fall asleep.

May tomorrow be a better day.

_“Are you going to be okay, chopping the onions, and… stuff?” Hunk asks awkwardly as Keith takes his cutting board, knife, and the rather large onion. “I can do it if you don’t want to.” Keith waves him off with the knife instead of giving him an answer and Hunk twiddles his thumbs together before he sets about chopping the carrots, red peppers, and broccoli. “Hey, thanks for wanting to help me out, I appreciate it a lot.”_

_Keith grunts. A few awkward seconds pass, where Keith doesn’t do anything and Hunk tries not to shrink into the floor. Keith grunts again. Then, “it’s no problem. I like doing this.”_

_“Yeah?” Hunk says, surprised, “well, I’m just glad you’re okay with coming to me. I didn’t think I’d be the kind of person you’d hang out with, you know.” he looks around the small kitchen for two pans and he sets them up on the stove, pouring the oil in and then he leaves them to preheat before he goes to work on the chicken. “I’m not even following a recipe right now, I just wanna throw a bunch of food together and… eat, I guess.”_

_“Hm.” Keith is silent, though Hunk likes to think he is more accustomed to his silence than before. It isn’t like Keith is glaring him to death and shooing him away like he is prone to with Lance, so Hunk takes that as a good sign._

_He reminds himself, again, that Keith isn’t like Shiro, which… clearly. They look different, dress different, and are different ages (by only a year). Yet a small part of Hunk initially hopes that Keith is as easy to talk to as Shiro, and he doesn’t want to admit he is a tiny bit disappointed that he isn’t. Still, you can’t just force a guy to change drastically._

_The fact that he is letting Hunk talk freely like this is a miracle so he keeps going with that implicit permission._

_“Yeah, today was just… a bit much, I guess. I don’t want to follow books or recipes, just throw together what I think will taste good and enjoy it. Do you want me to make you anything?”_

_“No,” they say sharply though they are quick to soften themself with an unexpected, “thank you for asking.”_

_They work together in silence for a little bit, with Hunk staring at the stove blankly after Keith gives him everything they chop up. They grab the mushrooms in the fridge, a pot, and everything else they need to make mushroom soup. Hunk opens his mouth to say something, but he silences himself and just busies himself with his own food, then…_

_“Hey,” Keith says out of nowhere, no prompting or anything, and Hunk almost cuts his finger. Thankfully, Keith doesn’t notice as he continues on, “if you need someone to listen to you about your day, I don’t mind.”_

_He looks at them with wide-eyed surprise. He swallows once, twice, until his throat doesn’t feel as dry anymore and he isn’t struggling to speak. He lets free a soft, “thank you.”_

_Keith doesn’t even look at, gesture to, or acknowledge him. Hunk takes in a deep breath… and lets all his worries spill out while Keith stands next to him, a silent figure while Hunk talks about his more recent insecurities. The only thing Keith ever does is give him a glass of water and then some tissues to wipe the tears of frustration away._

_His lunch doesn’t taste as good as usual thanks to him being so distracted and his decision to just throw stuff together, but at the very least his back feels lighter and his chest free of knots. Keith offers him some of the leftover mushroom soup they make together and Hunk thanks them. He doesn’t even realize they leave until after he hears the door shuts, but that is because of how silently they walk and carry themself._

_But, Hunk supposes, that is just the kind of person Keith is._


	6. C5: Endoplasmic Reticulum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still seem to be making edits even after the story is theoretically done.

Tuesdays are generally more hectic than Mondays for Shiro. He has two classes that day and in between is his part-time job. He works most of the week though only for a few hours at a time, which he is grateful for, but it also means he doesn’t really get a bigger break besides an hour before and after work. Thankfully, his job is on campus – even if it is him working at the student centre Wendy’s.

His morning class goes well, or well _enough_ at least. The professor explains the lecture too quickly, as always, but he isn’t able to keep up as well as usual. He hopes that, at least, by next week he will be able to focus on something else besides _‘my boyfriend is dead. My boyfriend is dead. Someone killed my boyfriend.’_ because he can’t keep mind wandering like this.

He has tests. He has homework. He has assignments. He has essays due. He misses Keith.

Shiro rubs his face with both hands and tries his best to focus on the lecture and he manages to have some legible notes by the end of the class. He is going to have to listen to his recording over and over again to catch up on anything he misses because of his zoning out, but better than nothing. He spends his next hour trying to fix up his notes as best he can before he is rushing off to work.

He doesn’t really smile and nod, no one else working here does, but he tries not to be snippy and curt. The next few hours are almost a blur as he takes orders, helps prepare fries and burgers and what-have-you, and gives people their orders. He enters his ‘autopilot’ soon enough and lets his mind wander to both thoughts he wants to forget and concerns that he has to address. He thinks on his classes, about the professors, and makes notes to himself to rate his profs online later. He probably has some online quizzes soon, so he has to check up on those too. When will Keith have his funeral? Will it be soon? How long do autopsies take? It all depends on Mrs. Kogane, doesn’t it?

‘… _Why did someone want to kill Keith…?’_

It is almost a surprise when his shift is done. His boss has to tap him on the shoulder to let him know and Shiro takes a few seconds to recognize what he says. A light pink dusts his cheeks while he thanks his boss and he heads off to change. He walks aimlessly around the campus, weaving in and out of the buildings to try and stay warm, and stopping occasionally to readjust his earmuffs.

The sun shines bright above him, not a single cloud in sight, and the light reflects almost blindingly on the snow around him, his hands coming up to try and protect his eyes from the brightness. In a way, it is almost captivatingly beautiful to see these piles of snow glitter and shine like unwanted, destroyed diamond shards. He stands outside of the film and arts building for the last ten minutes of his hour long break, taking in the cold and shakily breathing in and out. His nose peeks out from above his scarf and form minuscule frosty clouds with each shaky exhale; he almost considers just standing out in the cold all day until his senses catch up to him and he scurries back inside.

Five minutes before class starts.

Three hours to go.

* * *

Shiro is pretty sure he isn’t a person anymore at this point. He feels more like… a puddle of himself. A liquid of his former self. A pool of Shirogane. He grimaces at the last thought then shakes his head. He is on his way back to his dorm, huddling in on himself, when he hears someone call out to him: “Shiro? Takashi Shirogane?” the voice is vaguely familiar and Shiro stops in place when he hears it. He turns around and startles slightly when he sees who it is who calls out to him.

“Veronica?” he says and he meets her halfway as she lightly jogs up to him. “I – wow, it’s been a while. How’s the whole… journalism degree going?” he winces at the way his voice sounds in his own ears, but Veronica just laughs.

She points over to the lecture halls, a smile on her face as she says, “let’s talk over coffee. I’m cold as balls.”

“I wouldn’t know how that feels,” Shiro says, “but I’ll take your word for it.”

Veronica laughs even harder while she leads the way and Shiro trails after her like a puppy, almost. He gets a small Earl Grey tea from the Timmy’s when the Starbucks line proves to be too much and he makes sure to request a good amount of sugar for his tea. Veronica gets a double-double.

“How have you been?” Veronica asks and after that initial question he finds all of his tension melting away. They trade stories back and forth, complain about their respective professors and then praise certain ones while gushing about their favourite courses. Veronica seems to be seeing another woman and Shiro beams up at her and congratulates her for it. “I should’ve rethought my choice of changing majors, honestly.” she says after a while and Shiro arches an eyebrow. “I would’ve graduated two years ago if I didn’t change my major.”

He tilts his head to the side. “Oh, that’s right. You used to be a bio major, didn’t you?” he hopes he is remembering correctly; Veronica is more along the lines of being Keith’s friend, more so than Lance, and there is a bit of hilarious irony to that – but Shiro can’t tell which irony, exactly.

“Yep!” Veronica says happily, a big smile spreading on her lips. “I was a writing major before that, then changed to biology and ran into Keith there. Didn’t think I’d see him again after he graduated high school, y’know.” the smile on her face fades into that of a sad one. Her fingers tap the side of the now-empty Styrofoam cup, her gaze on the table and her mind elsewhere. “We were, technically, going to graduate at the same time, you know? Summer courses helped speed that up, and…” she shrugs.

“It’s hard to believe he’s gone?” Shiro finishes for her and Veronica nods. She traces the lid of her cup with her index finger and her expression crumbles. “… I’m… the one who found him, you know.”

She looks up in alarm. “What?”

“I’m the one who found him dead.” Shiro repeats quietly, not wanting to bring attention onto them. Veronica’s expression is absolutely crushed, her eyes wide with pity. Her mouth opens and closes, the words failing to form for her, and Shiro just shrugs. “It… wasn’t the great way to start a Sunday?” he tries to joke but his words fall flat and his face is warped into an ugly grimace. She shakes her head at him, as though to rub it in further how the joke really doesn’t work.

“That’s… awful, Shiro. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s – well, it isn’t okay, but, it is a bit… hard to actually express how I feel about all this?” he doesn’t mean to end that statement in a question. He doesn’t mean to do or sound like a lot of things right now, but. Well. He runs his hand through his hair and curses himself for not growing it out so that he can nervously play with the strands.

Veronica chews on her lower lip, eyes darting side to side as she tries to think up of something to say, but the only thing she does is deflate in her seat and sigh. “I’m sorry,” she says, “I don’t really know what to say to lift up the mood. You two were so close…” her gaze drifts upwards to meet his and Shiro has to make a conscious effort to not look away. “He deserved better than how he went.”

He gives out a noncommittal hum. His throat tightens up and rubs, raw, like sandpaper when he swallows and he takes a sip of the very last of his tea. It doesn’t help, much, but it is better than his own saliva by a longshot. “This is really, really hard.” Veronica laughs dryly after she says that and Shiro can only nod in agreement. She is the one who breaks her gaze away from his, much to his relief. “You know, even though I knew Keith basically all my life… I didn’t really _know_ him.”

Shiro tries not to straighten up too quickly in his seat. “What do you mean?” he asks, trying to sound casual and – somehow – managing to succeed as Veronica doesn’t look at him weirdly.

“Well,” she begins awkwardly, chewing on her lower lip again before she continues, “they…” she hesitates again, “well, Keith wasn’t… they weren’t always the best, you know? Those formative high school years, haha! Haa… ha.”

They stare at each other blankly. Veronica turns away and coughs into her fist and Shiro plays with his forelock.

“Well, it isn’t like I have room to judge. I didn’t get to know him as well as Lance did.” she stares off into the distance, a frown forms on her face, and Shiro can’t help but tense up. She looks back at him with that same sort of odd smile that Lance likes to give him when he doesn’t want to admit to something. That smile almost always appears when Shiro asks him why Lance never seems comfortable being with him and Keith whenever he invites them over.

_‘Like sister, like brother.’_

“High school was rough on everyone.” she says. “I think we can both agree on that, right?”

He plays with the stirrer in his cup, watching it swirl in the last remnants of his tea, and says, “yeah. High school was a mess of trying to grow up too fast and not knowing why you were doing that.”

“And when you do grow up, you suddenly want to go back but then you learn that becoming an adult is a one-way ticket.” Veronica murmurs. “… I wish I hung out with Keith more,” she says softly, “I don’t think… I don’t think he ever forgave himself for – or maybe he did and…” she closes her mouth abruptly and glares down at the table, before her features are quick to smooth out and she sighs. “He was treating you well, right?”

 _“Yeah, he was an angel.”_ Shiro says.

A soft, gentle smile spreads on her lips and Shiro looks away. “I’m glad.” she says softly. “Even though I was friends with him, I never...” they both stay quiet. Shiro doesn’t acknowledge what she says and, instead, focuses on the designated exit of the Tim Hortons with his eyes occasionally glancing up at the clock on the wall.

Students begin to filter out of the Tim Hortons over time as the clock ticks quicker and quicker towards nighttime. Veronica takes one look at her watch and then smiles apologetically up at him when he looks back at her. “I have to go back now, I have to write some mock-up articles and… well, you know the drill?”

He smiles at her. “Of course, Veronica, thank you for taking the time to have coffee with me.” Shiro says as he stands up and follows in behind her. He absentmindedly throws his cup away and waves goodbye as they go their separate ways.

“Take care, don’t be a stranger.” Veronica says before they part and Shiro stares at her retreating back for a while. She disappears between all of the other students milling about in the lecture halls and he turns away and quietly heads back to his dorm college. He stares off into the distance and pulls his scarf down a little bit more so he can watch his breath turn into fine white mist.

_‘What was Keith in high school like? He never seemed to like talking about himself. Why was he always so uncomfortable about it?”’_

He looks at his phone, scrolls up, and looks at his last text from Lance since yesterday. _‘There is so much he wanted to say to Keith,’_ he thinks to himself, _‘but now he never will.’_ he rereads the message several times, as though memorizing it for a future test, and Shiro puts his phone away when he nearly runs into a pole. _‘What was high school like for you two? Why did Veronica seem so sad?’_ he asks himself while he tugs his scarf up to cover his face once more. He wraps his arms around himself and trudges through the heavy snow.

Matt isn’t back yet, which probably means he is going to be studying until closing time in the library. At least it isn’t that far away from their college, and they don’t close until eleven anyway. He dumps his bag on the ground and falls into a sprawl on their sofa. The dorm is unnaturally warm and his outfit only further cooks him up, though it isn’t until he is sweating bullets does Shiro finally get up. He dumps his clothes into the makeshift laundry basket, makes a note to go to the laundromat later, and takes the coldest shower he can manage.

It doesn’t wake him up in the slightest, thank God, though it does give him enough awareness to realise he doesn’t really have many clean clothes. That is what he gets for neglecting laundry duty this Sunday. Too busy crying over his boyfriend, who is very rudely dead, and Shiro’s shoulders slump while he is in the shower. He buries his face in his palms and lets out a long, drawn out groan into them. God, he is an absolute mess. He rubs circles on his forehead, washes off any remaining soap or shampoo, and then dries himself off as quickly as possible.

Drying his hair doesn’t take long and he has a quick dinner before he drifts off to bed. Thoughts run rampant in his head – thoughts of university, of his future, of his friends, of Keith – and he needs to go to sleep before a headache forms. He reaches for the drawer next to his bed, pulls the top one out, and fingers the lighter Keith gifts him.

He –

He really is gone.

In what feels like hours but is mere minutes, Shiro soon drifts off into dreams.


	7. C6: Isoscles, Isometry

Shiro wants to say the following week and a half go well. The sting and burn of Keith’s death lessens slightly – but not a lot – and he finds himself able to focus better on his day-to-day instead of mourning and regretting constantly. His focus, however, seems to shift from _‘my boyfriend is dead, what do I do?’_ to _‘who in the name of God killed my boyfriend?’_

Of course, Shiro doesn’t want to play cop – if Keith is alive right now, he will slap Shiro for even thinking of it. He doesn’t want to go around on an investigative adventure when he barely knows where to start, how to start, or whether or not he should do that. He has his courses to think about, his university, and he can’t just drop everything on a dime, turn around, and then play detective to figure out who is his boyfriend’s killer. Sure, he does want to know – who doesn’t? If someone close to you gets murdered, of course you want to know. Or, so he thinks.

But… of course, the issue is again that Shiro can’t be the one doing his own independent investigation. If he tries to do it then it will be trespassing, stealing, and obstruction of justice (he isn’t too sure on the last one, though). He doesn’t think Keith will be happy for him to go to jail like that; he always tells Shiro he hates him doing anything dangerous.

Investigating your own boyfriend’s killer is, potentially, dangerous and one of the many things that – if still alive – Keith will try and put a stop to, near immediately. Even still, he doesn’t need much convincing: he can’t prove his worth to the world and, hopefully, NASA if he just lets his grades drop like this. So no, Shiro isn’t going to be investigating anything any time soon.

Still, he hopes against all hope that the police are able to find something out even though he knows that random murders like this are always the hardest to solve.

 _‘If everyone in the world decided to just kill someone with a gun and run,’_ Shiro thinks to himself while he plays around with his bland Caesar salad, thinking back to a conversation he has with Keith once, _‘would we ever figure out who killed who, or will we be left with a society full of dead bodies and no answers?’_

He makes a face at his own thoughts then shakes his head. He gives out a suffering sigh and decides to just eat his salad (no matter the fact that it doesn’t have a ‘taste’) before he goes rushing off to the library so he can study. He needs to catch up on his readings and the library should be relatively empty in the centre at this point in time. His bag is as heavy as always and he remembers Matt complaining to him that they have way too many books. Keith also likes to complain that Shiro is going to snap his back like that, citing the importance of the spine to him and Shiro always rolls his eyes fondly at him.

Now he only has vague memories of Keith’s endless explanations on the nervous system and the spine to remember whenever he picks his bag up. It makes him chuckle when he recalls Keith’s annoyed expression every time he realizes Shiro isn’t listening. God, his boyfriend is such a weirdo and no one else will ever know how much of a weirdo he is.

He was.

This is going to take some getting used to.

It is almost a bitter relief when he realises that his focus is properly shifting over onto his studies and that he is able to, step by step, keep up with the course load again. It doesn’t make the feeling any better, though. He curls his hand under his chin while he reviews his notes. There are some corrections he makes then and there when he compares them to the lecture slides and the textbook, and the process is… well, it is boring. It always has been, even for someone like him who enjoys studying.

When he gets to the content that he is a bit more confident on, he lets his mind drift.

Things have been changing, and he doesn’t know if it is for the better. Pidge and Hunk are… still very much the same people, though Hunk seems to be a bit more on edge now. He keeps cooking so much for Shiro that he doesn’t know if he can handle it and even _Matt_ is thinking that this is overkill. Pidge seems overall the same, though a bit unsure of how to talk about Keith to Shiro. Those two are fine.

It’s Lance he can’t stop thinking about.

Prior to Keith’s death, Lance makes it his _mission_ to beautify Shiro as much as he can once he realizes he is dating Keith. He tells him something about Shiro needing to be so outrageously beautiful he doesn’t go after anyone else or dumps him unceremoniously. Shiro wants to tell him that he doesn’t think Keith will just up and abandon him just because he doesn’t look twenty-years old at the age of forty-five. Lance just waves him off.

 _“Beauty keeps things going longer,” Lance says, though his words are floaty, “but honestly, you need to take care of your skin. You look like gonna start molting at any time, dude, and I ain’t about that.”_ after that, they sort of make it a habit to just meet up at the shopping mall just to walk around. They don’t spend long in the mall, mostly because Shiro is broke and Lance doesn’t want to spend his money so recklessly now that he is in university proper. Still, he buys Shiro textbooks and pens and tells him that, when Shiro gets a job, they will come back for some proper, expensive skincare products.

That is then. This is now, and the now of things is that Shiro struggles to keep their biweekly shopping mall visits going. Lance barely gives him responses now when before he gives Shiro twenty text messages just to answer his one. He misses the way Lance will rant and rave to him about this or that. He floods his phone so often that Shiro manages to overcome his specific anxiety of unread notifications and messages because of Lance alone.

It is almost legendary.

Now, however? The only thing Lance likes to give to him as a response is a simple ‘ok’. What is worse is that when he tries to meet up with Lance in person and just talk about… how he feels, or the sorts, Lance just blows him off and Shiro won’t deny it stings. He tries not to let it get to him so much – Lance and Keith have known each other for far longer than he knows Keith. This isn’t fair on Lance, so he tries to breathe and give him space.

Still…

He runs his hand through his forelock, ruffles it, and slumps his shoulders before he gets back to his studying. The more he gets done the less he has to worry about when he has work tonight.

His phone vibrates next to his hand, jolting him out of his thoughts and he nearly scratches a nasty line on his notebook. He checks the caller ID and then near frenetically starts to stuff everything away in his bag. He swipes to answer, jams his headset on, and he whispers out an apology before he rushes out of the library. The person next to him looks at him like he has grown two heads and Shiro pointedly ignores the look. He settles down on the benches right next to his library and he takes a deep breath.

Almost timidly, he says, “Mrs. Kogane?”

There is a moment or so of silence on the other hand. A brief, unwanted panic hits him that he may have hung up on her in his rush to get out but it is quick to be dispelled when he checks his phone screen.

He sits there in pure, awkward silence, his grip on his phone a bit tight and his heart feeling tighter and tighter in his chest. He has to hold back his sigh of relief when he hears Mrs. Kogane clearing her throat on the other side of the phone, though it does help make him feel better when he realizes that she is struggling to.

“ _Shirogane_ ,” she says, her voice failing to be warm, “ _the police contacted me. They’ve finished the reconstitution of my… my –_ ” her voice chokes up. He stays quiet, mostly out of uncertainty on how to comfort a grieving woman he barely knows about over the phone. She clears her throat several times, takes in a deep breath, then says, “ _they’ve finished the reconstitution of my son’s… body. I wish for you to attend the funeral, in case you thought yourself unwelcome._ ” she gives to him the date of his funeral, her voice unsurprisingly monotone.

He expects this. He really does expect to hear this. It still doesn’t stop his heart from tightening up in his chest, the rush of air from his lungs and out into the open, and the multitudes of knots that make themselves known. He swallows through the lump clogging his throat, his head numb and feeling like it is stuffed with wool, and his eyes burn. It is a testament to his will that he doesn’t cry this time around when he learns his boyfriend is dead.

The first funeral he goes to has him dry-eyed from bawling thanks to the news.

This time, he doesn’t think he has any tears to shed that haven’t been shed enough already.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kogane.” Shiro says softly, his voice a pathetic warble, but he can’t bring himself to be ashamed of it right now. “Your – your son was a great person.” he says when neither of them hang up, and he tries not to break his phone with his grip. “I really did love him, and…”

_He expects a lot of things when he gets to the Kogane household. He expects Keith’s mom to be short, just like the pictures he sees of him during middle school._

_Keith smiles brightly at him before he reaches into his pocket for the key and unlocks the door to the nice, but frankly small house. He always expects lawyers to have huge houses and big mansions, or whatever, but he supposes that is just ‘young Shiro’ talking and ‘adult Shiro’ doesn’t really bother to research what kind of houses lawyers live in._

_For all he knows, the Kogane household has been around for way before he is born. It makes sense to him._

_“Mom!” Keith yells out, “I brought my boyfriend here! Be nice!” he yells before he shoves Shiro out in front of him and runs off to the kitchen. He watches him leave and looks back to stairs at the sound of footfalls and finds his expectations smashed apart by a sledgehammer._

_Before him, in the middle of the stairs, is a woman a mere two inches shorter than him with an angular, sharp face. He can tell where Keith gets their features from, and why it is that they have such a terrifying glare now when Mrs. Kogane gives him one._

_Mrs. Kogane steps forth. She reaches a hand out and then grabs onto his hand when he reaches for a handshake. She shakes it firmly, her gaze like daggers when she says, “be good to my son.” before she cracks a big, crooked grin and joins her son in the kitchen._

“… and it made me really happy when you accepted me, despite you not knowing me that well.” he looks down at his lap with a smile; that memory still makes him smile to this day. “Thank you.”

“ _… I…”_ Mrs. Kogane begins, though it takes her some time to finish her sentence, “ _I am happy to know you think so well of me, Shiro. I’m… I’m just happy that my son had someone like you in his life before he… I have to go now, I’m sorry, but I still have work to do.”_ she hangs up before either of them can say goodbye and Shiro just pockets his phone and then leans against the wall behind him, his gaze up on the ceiling.

His small smile fades away into a flat line, his expression blank as he just stares up at stained white and uninteresting, dull designs. Will they ever figure out who it is who is this vile and savage that they will take another person’s life?

 _‘Who did it?’_ Shiro asks himself. _‘Why would someone kill Keith? What did Keith ever do? He was almost always so unassuming. But maybe there are some things I didn’t know about Keith – but it still can’t be his fault.’_ he curls into himself. _‘Keith deserved better than whatever psycho decided to off him. Maybe it was someone he used to know? But who could it… who cares at this point…?’_

After a minutes or so, he checks his phone and decides to head back inside to continue studying. He doesn’t have long until he has to go to work, and Shiro wants to keep his mind as busy as possible today.

Life goes on.

_Dinner with Mrs. Kogane went really well, at least Keith looks to be beaming. Mrs. Kogane is currently stepping out to go buy some sweets for them, even though Shiro insists he is on a diet. Keith talks over him and rattles off all of the types of stuff Shiro likes to eat and Mrs. Kogane is off to go get them._

_The grin she shows to him earlier is gone and her – he assumes – usual expression takes over again. She does warn them not to do anything untoward before she sets off and Shiro blushes so hard he is sure he may be confused for a fried octopus. “You did great!” is what Keith immediately says when Mrs. Kogane is out and he wraps his arms, tight, around Shiro. “I’m so proud of you, you did so well. Mom was so happy to see ya; you have no clue!”_

_“She was?” Shiro asks, even if he feels a bit dumb for it. “I didn’t really notice.”_

_Keith laughs his sunshine laugh and then grabs Shiro by the cheeks and yanks him in for a kiss. It is a chaste one – as soft as feather’s touch yet full of warmth, and Shiro returns his embrace and kiss. They break the kiss off but they hold onto each other like that, with Keith smiling extremely widely and Shiro giving him his own small smiles._

_“I talked a lot about you,” Keith says after they properly separate and sit down, “I didn’t talk about the first time we met, though –”_

_“That time doesn’t count.” Shiro denies._

_“Whatever, Shiro. It totally counts.” he snickers and covers his mouth, before he then leans back, crosses his legs, and settles both his fists atop his knee. “Mom always knew about you, and she told me that ya had t’see her, or else she’d ground me.”_

_He crosses his arms and shakes his head. “You don’t even live with her anymore.”_

_“That’s what I told her. She said she’ll find a way, and I don’t doubt it.” his expression softens, his gaze casts downwards and he nibbles on his lower lip, before he says, “I’m glad she seems t’like you. I really do. Hey, Shiro?” he looks up and smiles, almost nervously. “I love you, you know that, right? Even when I’m bein’ a brat.”_

_Shiro blinks at that. He uncrosses his arms, grabs at his seat and shifts a little bit, before he says, “of course I know that.” His gaze wanders around the living room for a little bit, trying not to focus too on the pictures of father, mother and son. Keith only tells him that his father is dead and nothing more, and Shiro can respect that. He can wait until Keith tells him anything he wants to tell him, whether it is that he has weird fetishes or how someone dies._

_The atmosphere is beginning to grow tense, stifling. At some point during their wait, Keith seems to be sinking into thoughts he shouldn’t judging from his expression. His eyebrows are lifted up, eyes wide, and a frown making an ugly mark on his face. He sits normally now, though his hands are forming tight, shaky fists atop his knees._

_“Hey,” Shiro calls out and Keith looks at him questioningly. His brain short-circuits for a second as he realizes he has no clue what to say, so he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind: “why don’t you call me Takashi, now that we’re dating?”_

_Keith squints at him then sighs and rolls his eyes, as if the answer is obvious. “The only time I’ll ever call you Takashi,” he says simply, “is when ya marry me and your name’s Takashi Kogane.” Shiro squawks then starts laughing loudly and his hands fly up to try and muffle the sound. The gloomy expression on Keith’s face is gone and is, instead, taken over by a grin of pure joy. “I don’t know ‘bout you, but Ko ain’t as catchy as Shiro.”_

_“Oh my god,” he grabs at one of the cushions and half-heartedly throws it at Keith, who catches it with ease, “you are the biggest idiot I have ever met. I hate you.”_

_Keith smirks at him while he hugs the cushion to his belly, his voice mischievous as he says, “I love you.”_

_Absolutely weak and powerless to his boyfriend’s charm, Shiro helplessly says, “I love you too.”_

_Mrs. Kogane comes back with sweets just a minute later and Keith and her team up to try and convince Shiro that eating sweets this once won’t ruin his figure. He gives in, because of course he does._

_He will always give in to Keith, he thinks. It’s hard not to._


End file.
